


Argument

by InfernalPume



Category: Original Work
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-18
Updated: 2016-06-18
Packaged: 2018-07-15 21:08:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7238557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InfernalPume/pseuds/InfernalPume
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Farhad and Poriel get into a bit of an argument</p>
            </blockquote>





	Argument

“Ta daah!” Izolae said, holding out her arms and twirling before her two fathers, the bells on her ankle bracelets jingling with the movement.

 

“Very nice,” Poriel said with a smile, noticing that those were _his_ earrings decorating her, though he had to admit they matched the circlet she always wore.

 

This was the first dress of its kind in Izolae’s wardrobe. Due to her height she didn’t fit in most Kaevren clothes. Despite being sixteen now she still wore the same patterned frocks that young girls wore, as it was the easiest for Poriel tailor to make for her body type. But here she was in her first mature gown, the bright embroidered sash around her upper waist, and the long flowing cloth of a multitude of colorful patterns flowing about her legs. Bands of gold and silver were wrapped around her upper arms, and around her neck was a long string of layered beads in the same color of the skirt. Again she twirled for her father, again her jewelry jingled.

 

Poriel nodded and smiled, “You look lovely,” he said, “Doesn't she, Farhad?”

 

Turning to his husband Poriel was surprised to see the look of utter shock and outrage on Farhad's face. The man had been quiet since she had walked out, and now shook his head in disbelief.

 

“You _cant_ wear that!” He couldn’t even look at her, he put a hand up to cover his eyes, “Porri- you…you arent _seriously_ okay with- Izolae go put on something else _now.”_

 

Izolae looked to her father, too stunned to even throw a tantrum or use any of her usual ‘little princess’ tactics to get her way.

 

Poriel perked a brow and regarded him.

 

“Whatever is the matter Farhad?” he asked, touching his arm with concern.

 

“Whats the matter?!” Farhad stood up and clutched his dreads, then sat down again still shaking his head, “What’s the- I _mean_ it Izolae, go change! Go!”

 

He shooed her away and she squeaked and scampered into her closed closing the curtain behind her. Usually it was Poriel who disallowed her anything, her kind and doting and completely putty father Farhad never raised his voice at her, never _refused_ her anything.

 

Rising and pacing in circles Farhad tugged at one of his dreads.

 

“What does Klee think she’s doing? Making something like that for our daughter…” he was more angry than Poriel had ever seen him over something so small.

 

“What is wrong with the dress?” Poriel asked, rising with him to try and calm him some, “What do you find so offensive?”

 

“The fact it isnt a _dress_ for one!” Farhad said, throwing up his arms, “It’s a _skirt._ Theres no top part…nothing to cover the…” he flushed bright red and gestured to his own chest.

 

Poriel arched a brow. Since having come to Kaevrenai the first time all those years ago Farhad had seen many Kaevren women, seen how they dressed. Izolae’s gown was no different than anything the other women of high standing or of the college would wear.

 

“Breasts?” Poriel offered, frowning, “That’s just how dresses here are.”

 

Farhad laughed a little and took a deep breath trying to calm down.

 

“Yes but- Poriel you cant seriously-…her _chest_ out so anyone can see!”

 

The look Poriel gave him was still of utter bewilderment. He knew that it was considered indecent for girls to bare their chests in the Gap but surely Farhad knew how backwards that was.

 

“That’s how all Kaevren women wear their dresses,” Poriel said.

 

“Yes but Izolae _isnt Kaevren,_ ” Farhad hissed, then widened his eyes as it came out.

 

Well then. There it was.

 

Poriel narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms, making Farhad flinch back at the cold glare he received. Though Poriel was small, Farhad looked at him fearfully and tried to smile as a bead of sweat ran down his cheek.

 

“That is a complex statement, I’ll give you that,” Poriel said coldly, “As far as genetics are concerned, you are correct. Izolae is _not_ Kaevren. However she has grown up here in Kaevrenai, and was raised by a Kaevren parent, and is currently heir to a Kaevren title, so in _that_ matter, she is very much Kaevren.”

 

Poriel uncrossed his arms to rest each hand on a hip, “Unless you do not think that she is my child, that is.”

 

“N-no!” Farhad put up his hands defensively, Poriel could just barely see tears forming in the corners of his eyes, “Not that its just…” he looked about as if a reasonable explanation would just fall out of the sky.

 

Poriel sighed and relaxed a bit, going to sit again on Izolae’s bed. He still looked ticked to the say the least, but at least he wasn’t glaring at Farhad any more.

 

Splaats sighed and went to sit by him, fumbling with his fingers. For the next few seconds they sat in silence, Poriel serine and silent, Splaats trying to think of something to say. Just as he opened his mouth to break the silence Izolae stepped out from behind the curtain in one of her usual dresses, blushing red and scowling at Farhad. The furious little expression cut through the man as both his partner and daughter were obviously very cross with him. Didn’t they see how _wrong_ this was?

 

“Much better,” he said, rising to place both hands on her shoulders and kiss her forehead, “You look beautiful.”

 

“I look like a child, you mean,” She snapped, jerking her head away from his lips and in doing that receiving a whimper from her father, “Daddy tell Papa that I can wear my new dress!”

 

Izolae didn’t appeal to Poriel often, but in this scenario he seemed to be the reasonable one.

 

“If Papa is not comfortable with it then neither am I,” Poriel said, shutting his eyes and rising once more, “We will just need to find a cut we are both comfortable with.”

 

“Not fair!” Izolae said, looking between them in outrage and stomping her foot, “Daddy you _said_ that I could wear it!”

 

“It makes Papa uncomfortable,” Poriel said, crossing his arms and giving her the hard stare that made her shut her mouth, “Don’t you want to make your Papa unhappy?”

 

This caught Izolae a bit off guard, as did her fear of that usual stare from Poriel. She began sentences and words that died in her throat, before hanging her head.

 

“No Daddy,” she said obediently, rubbing her arm and glancing to the side.

 

Poriel smiled again and went to kiss her fingers, as she had grown too tall for him to kiss her head about a year ago.

 

“I am sure you will look lovely in anything you chose,” He said kindly, patting the rings on her hands before turning to leave, “I have work to do, I will see you both at dinner.”

 

Leaving Izolae to sulk Poriel walked into the hall and began in the direction of his office before he was stopped by Farhad. The larger man knelt so his nose was in Poriel curls, nuzzling them affectionately.

 

“Thanks Porri,” he said, wrapping his arms around his husband's shoulders.

 

“She is your daughter too,” Poriel said, stroking his wrists.


End file.
